Beauty
by The Flavor of the Weak
Summary: But the enchantress’s deep eyes gave him no pity, for she knew his words were meaningless. She had seen that he knew nothing of love, but to love himself. A Blumiere/Timpani retelling of Beauty and the Beast. AU.
1. Prologue

**Prologue**

In the heart of a dark castle, in the heart of a dark forest, in the heart of bright country, a young prince lived.

He had everything one could ask for, save for one thing. He had servants to weight on his every request. He had a vast castle to explore and enjoy, adorned with elegant tapestries and exquisite arts, and a library that seemed to go on forever. The windows opened to a wide, beautiful world full of color and splendor. He had riches that knew no depth, and never had to work for something for himself. He had anything material he could ever think of, and with a snap of his fingers, any of those things could be his.

But there was one thing that the young prince lacked. But he didn't miss it for a moment. He never thought he'd have a use for it, and never saw an occasion to feel it, so he spurned it and neglected it his entire life.

It was love that the young prince was missing.

But one fateful day, the young prince's fate became inextricably tied to this which he was missing.

Dark clouds had set in as the sun set, and snow began to descend from the skies. No souls ever visited the castle, and the addition of the poor weather made it impossible for any mortal to have found the castle that night.

And yet, as the prince sat down in a red velvet armchair in front of a roaring fire, a leather book in his hands and a tray of tea at his side, a knock sounded from the front doors of the castle.

Deciding it must have been a deception of the wind, he ignored the knock and opened his book.

But then he heard the knock again, more urgent this time.

Determined to remain in seclusion, he ignored the sound once more.

But there was a knock a third time, and this time it was loud and incessant.

The young prince decided that was enough. He would deal with this menace himself. Rising from his armchair, he made his way to the foyer of the castle. He pulled open the doors by their brass handles.

Standing in the gentle snow, illuminated by the lanterns at the gate, was an old beggar woman. Her spine was crooked and she held a tattered shawl around her shivering shoulders.

The prince grimaced in disgust, repelled by her appearance. Surely she was here to take his money or leech off of his prestige. He would do away with her. But before he could thrust her from his presence, she spoke.

She asked for shelter, of all things. And as payment, she held out a pure red rose, red as living blood and as full as the yellow moon above the clouds.

The prince laughed at her gift, appalled that she would think a simple flower would earn her a stay within his walls. But as he dismissed her and began to shut his door, the woman advised him in sharp voice to reconsider his decision.

The prince would not have it. This old hag had no place within his castle; there was nothing to reconsider. He dismissed her again.

But before he could shut the door, the old woman's form glowed and grew, until a beautiful enchantress stood in the snow before him.

Realizing he was at the hands of a magic-maker, the prince attempted to apologize with empty words. But the enchantress's deep eyes gave him no pity, for she knew his words were meaningless. She had seen that he knew nothing of love, but to love himself.

The prince cowered as the enchantress cast a spell over him as punishment for his empty heart. His handsome face disfigured as his body transformed. His skin became dark like midnight, and his face became gaunt like a jack-o-lantern's. Darkness seemed to course through his very veins, as if his blood had turned to ink. He shuddered as he fell into his new form on his hands and knees. The spell flew into his castle, overcoming all who lived there.

As the enchantress faded away, she dropped the rose she had offered into the snow. His transformation complete, the prince crawled forward and picked up the rose. As he did, the voice of the enchantress echoed across the empty courtyard.

It told him that the rose would bloom until his twenty-first birthday, and if he were able to learn to love another and earn their love in return, the spell would be broken. But if he could not, he and his castle would remain enchanted for all time, eternally cursed to wander alone in the darkness.

As the years went by and the pedals on the rose began to wilt one by one, until the prince lost all hope of ever knowing love. He fell into despair, an empty life and enchanted servants as his only companions. He knew he would spend eternity in this dark form, for he was sure that no one would be able to come to love him, if he could even love them.

And so, the prince wallowed as his twenty-first year approached, with nothing but emptiness…

"_Bleh heh heh heh heh. Bleck!_"

* * *

**Ahoy mateys! So here I am with the start of a new story…I finished Super Paper Mario just a few days ago, and I've had this idea in my head for a little while since then. And you know what happens when I get a writing idea in my head…it doesn't leave me alone until I write it down! So here is the beginning of my Beauty and the Beast Blumiere/Timpani story. I'm **_**so **_**excited to be writing this. As far as I can tell, this hasn't been done on yet, so hopefully this story is fresh and interesting to you as well. **

**If you have read this, please review! Reviews are the lifeblood of my fanfiction. If I don't see that anyone is enjoying my writing, then I don't have a lot of motivation to continue. So if you want me to keep going, then review! Yep, that means you. Right there. In the chair.**

**Anyway, I'll stop rambling now. Thank you for reading! Please review! See you next chapter!**


	2. Chapter One

**Chapter One**

In the bright country outside the dark forest that enclosed the dark castle, there was a small but busy village. The sun was just beginning to peak over the mountain tops, and milky clouds lit up in the sky. Few townspeople had already risen, eager to begin the chores of the day. But one girl was awake, not because of her chores…

She sat at a warm oak table in the kitchen of her small home, nose deep into a thick, leather-bound book. Her legs swung under her seat, her toes skimming the cold floorboards. She bit her lower lip as she flipped another page. She'd read this book many times, but its story never failed to captivate her. It had even kept her up for the most part of the night, and it was the reason why she had risen so early this morning.

Her name was Timpani, and she was bright, beautiful, and in the honest opinion of the townspeople, odd.

The stairs began to creak as Timpani heard her father making his way downstairs. She bit her thumbnail as she flipped another page.

"Timpani? Up reading again?" Her father yawned a wide, toothy yawn.

"Yes, father," she said absently. Her eyes stayed glued to the book.

"Do you do anything else?" He chortled, taking a seat across from her at the table.

"Of course, father," she said.

An amused look crossed his features. He leaned forward and placed his hand flat against the page she was reading. His fingers covered nearly the entire page.

Timpani's head snapped up. Her eyebrows knitted together. "Do you mind?"

He sighed. "Do _you _mind? I'd like to have a real conversation with my daughter, if it's alright with your storybook."

"It's not a _storybook_, father. It is a _novel._" Timpani tilted her chin up, but couldn't keep a smile from spreading across her lips.

"Ahem, excuse me. _Novel_. Now, are you ready to speak with me?"

Timpani looked once more down at the page, then snapped the book shut. "Yes, father."

"Good." Her father stood up, and made as if to cross the room, but turned around. Resting his hands against the back of his chair, his face tight, he said, "Now, I know you hate this conversation, but it is spring again, and there will be plenty of eligible suitors in want of a—"

"Ugh! Don't say anymore!" Timpani exclaimed, covering her eyes.

He ignored her outburst, and continued, "A wife, Timpani. And you are now at an eligible age to be considered for marriage, and I would be pleased if you would…make an effort."

Timpani's lips thinned into a long line. "Marry one of those boys in the village? They're all awful, father. Really."

"That Thomas fellow isn't too bad. He helps me unload my ships, and if he weren't working in his father's mill, I'd hire him in an instant."

"But he's _boring._" Timpani sighed. She leaned back in her chair and drew her knees up against her chest.

Her father opened his mouth to reprimand her, but he closed it again as he observed the earnestness on her face. She really wouldn't have any of the boys in their village…but what could he do? She would have to marry some day. He just didn't know how to make her realize that.

"Err…right. Timpani, if you would go out and milk the cow, I'd appreciate it greatly."

Timpani balked. "Make Effie or Lizzie do it! I'm busy!"

"They're still asleep. Besides, they're doing their duty. Letting themselves be courted by boys. Maybe if you would, I'd make them milk the cows instead."

Timpani sniffed indignantly as she rose from the table and stepped out the back door. _Doing my duty…_she thought to herself. The sweet morning air blew through her hair, and the dew-stained grass tickled her bare feet. She crossed their small field to where Gail, their cow, stood grazing on the cold grass.

"Hello, old girl," Timpani said as she patted Gail's back. She dragged over a stool and a bucket from the corner of the yard, and sat down at the cow's udder. Gail's tail swished as Timpani began to drain milk into the pail.

"You don't think…he's right do you?" Timpani sighed as she worked. Gail's ear twitched. "That my duty is to find someone to marry me. There's got to be more to it, right? My books all talk of love…" she sighed. "Of falling in love. Is it wrong that I want to fall in love before I marry?"

The cow mooed.

"I suppose you're right. It just doesn't seem right. And it's certainly not fair…" she trailed off as she filled the pail, stood up, and put the stool back where she had found it.

"That's it, I won't marry unless I find love. Forget what father says. I won't have it!" And with that she stomped back into her home with one hand on her hip and the other carrying the pail of milk.

When she reentered the kitchen, her two sisters, Effie and Lizzie, were sitting at the table. Their heads were together, reading Timpani's book.

Timpani placed the milk pail at her feet and rushed over to them. "That's my book!" She exclaimed, trying to wrestle it from their fingers.

Effie, the eldest of the three sisters, gathered the book into her arms. "Why should we? We're enjoying these delightful little fairy tales you devour!" They dissolved into fits of giggles.

"They're not fairy tales!" Timpani barked, trying to pry her fingers from the book. "Now, give it back to me!"

"Oh, calm down, Tippie, we just wanted to read it!" Lizzie chirped. "After all, a story about a princess falling asleep for 100 years and a prince coming to kiss her to wake her up is something we want to read as well!"

"You're insufferable!" Timpani fumed, heading for the stairs. Lizzie caught the edge of Timpani's shirt in her fist.

"Oh, alright, Tippie, we'll stop teasing you," Effie said, her giggle fits subsiding. She handed the book to Timpani, who still had a wary look in her eyes.

"Where's father?"

"Gregory called on him a little while ago and told him it was urgent," Effie said. "Something about his ships in a storm."

Timpani's stomach sunk. That certainly didn't sound good. "I hope everything is alright," she muttered.

Lizzie smiled at her sister. "Don't worry, I'm sure everything is just fine. Now how about we have some breakfast?"

But as they cooked and ate a warm breakfast of oatmeal, and Timpani told Effie and Lizzie more about her _novels_—she refused to call them fairy tales—their father burst through the front door.

He scrambled to the kitchen. "Oh, horrible, horrible…" He ran his hands through his frumpy white hair as he collapsed into the remaining chair.

"Father!" Timpani jumped up and grabbed his shoulder. "What's wrong?"

Her father buried his face in his hands. "Oh, it's just horrible, girls…" He was silent for a moment as he captured air into his lungs. Timpani, Effie, and Lizzie exchanged tentative and worried looks. Timpani rubbed the back of his neck.

Finally, he looked up. "Three of my largest ships were caught in a sudden storm at sea up north. Two of them were smashed by the waves, and only a handful of the crew escaped on dinghies…"

Lizzie reached over and placed her hand on her father's wrist. "Oh, father, I'm so sorry…"

Timpani gulped and asked, "What about…the other ship?"

He shook his head sadly. "No one has seen it since the storm, and none of the crew has made it back to land. I'm afraid everything and everyone is…gone."

The faces of sailors flooded Timpani's mind. She'd gone with her father and sisters to see them off only three weeks ago. Usually the trade didn't resume so soon after the breaking of winter, but the weather had been usually calm and warm for the time of year. Timpani's father had assumed it would be safe at sea for his ships, and that the sailors would have no trouble on the uncommonly calm waters.

He had taken a risk, and now his face was twisted in pain and guilt. Timpani felt her heart sliding into her stomach.

"Maybe they're okay," she said. It was quiet, as if she were telling herself more than her father. "Maybe they were able to land at port somewhere on the far side of the channel, and haven't been able to send word to us yet."

Her father's eyes narrowed. "My other men were able to, however."

Timpani's brow furrowed as she searched her mind for a logical explanation. She'd heard lots of stories about the northern tribes, about how they were barbarians and thieves and vandals. "Maybe they weren't kindly received..."

"Perhaps," her father responded, but Timpani could tell he was saying it more to satisfy her than to reflect what he really thought. Her lips tightened.

"Well, we mustn't give up hope," Timpani crossed the room and looked through the window. Her mind was chugging away. "What will you do in the meantime?"

Hesitanting, he answered, "I'm not sure there's much that I can do."

The three girls remained silent. They each knew what this meant, and not one of them was too surprised at what he was saying. A loss this deep could not be taken lightly. Most merchants were done in by such mishaps. Timpani liked to think that her father was smart enough to work his way out of this situation, but she feared that even he couldn't escape the loss of business. If he could even get the funds to hire new sailors, they were a superstitious bunch, and few sailors dared to crew for a merchant who'd lost ships to a storm before.

_If only there was something I could do…_ "You must have a plan of action," Timpani said.

"I do." Her father rose from his chair and came to her. He rested one large hand on her shoulder before adding, "I must wait to see if I hear anything of my third ship."

Timpani nodded. The glass of the window was still dewy from the morning. Out of the corner of her eye she caught the glimmer of a tear in her father's eye. She bit her bottom lip as the full force of the damage her father had taken hit her. They could lose everything.

And if they lost everything…Timpani would have to marry.

* * *

The days following the news of the shipwreck were long and tense. Timpani spent most of her time in her room reading story books, but the words suddenly felt empty to her. The stories no longer felt like a sweet adventure, and as much as she longed to go to the bookshop for some new tomes, she couldn't bear to leave where her father could reach her in an instant. She knew he needed her and her sisters more than ever then, and after all the days he had spent taking care of them alone after the death of their mother…well, it was she least she could do.

She also felt quite curious about the whole thing, and she felt a little guilty for it. She wanted to know very badly what had happened to that third ship. The thought of the crew coming ashore north of the sea only to be captured by barbarians was a fascinating idea, and even, she wouldn't admit, a bit romantic. It was like something right out of one of her books. And after all the times that Effie and Lizzie had teased her about stories being completely impossible, it felt nice for once to feel like they could come true.

A storm had set in, and Timpani wondered if it was the same storm that had caused the shipwreck that had brought all this trouble. But after three days of sitting in her chair by the window, reading and watching tear drops fall, she started to feel very restless indeed.

Then, near dusk on that third night, there was a knock on the door.

It wasn't unusual for them to receive visitors, especially since the shipwreck. There had been several of their fellow villagers who had come to offer their condolences regarding Timpani's father's misfortune. But they usually came in the morning, and so a visitor this late was odd.

Timpani, her father and her sisters had just finished up their supper when the knock came. Timpani's father rose to answer it.

On the doorstep stood Eli, a young boy from the village, soaked to the bone from the rain. Timpani's father allowed him to step inside. Eli removed his cap and wringed it out into a bucket near the door.

"Thank you, sir! It's just awful out there, but father said I must come! We heard some urgent news for you!"

Timpani's ears perked. Could this be the news about the mysterious third ship they had been waiting for? She hung on to every word Eli said. Effie and Lizzie were tense, too, and the three of them held hands across the table.

"Yes, what is it, my boy?" Timpani's father asked in a rushed breath.

"Mr. Lardner's just came and told us he received a message, a letter," Eli said. "The letter was from the captain of the _Nightingale._"

Effie, Lizzie, and Timpani exchanged eager glances. The _Nightingale _was the ship of their father's that had gone missing.

"And what did he say?" Timpani's father's fists were tight.

"The letter said that they were being held captive, sir, by a tribe of barbarians in the northern lands," Eli explained. "And that they're being held for ransom."

The color drained from Timpani's father's face. He gasped before responding, "How much did they request?"

"Well, they didn't really ask for money, sir. Mr. Lardner says they don't use money. They want gold, jewels, weapons. The letter outlines it a little bit more specifically."

He nodded. "Right, well, I…" He turned back to his daughters while grabbing his coat from the coat hook. "Girls, I must go investigate this matter further. You understand. I'll be home…" he sighed as he opened the door and ushered Eli back out into the rain. "I'll be home as soon as possible."

The door clicked shut behind him, and Effie and Lizzie began chattering madly.

"What do you think he will do?"

"He'll have to pay for their ransom, what else?"

"But what of his own fortune?"

We're going to lose everything. The house. Our possessions. Our…marriagability."

"I don't know that that's a word," Timpani chimed in.

They ignored her.

"We must marry immediately, then! Before our dowry money goes to rescue some poor fools in the barbarian lands!"

"But I don't think Chadwick is ready…"

"No, neither is Benson…"

Timpani scooted her chair from the table and left the room, leaving her squabbling sisters behind her. Back in her room once more, she sat down again in her chair and set her favorite book in her lap. She hadn't bothered to light a candle, so the room was dark save for the occasional illuminating strike of lightning outside.

She leaned her head against the slick window pane where rain drops were thundering down. "Please, please, please…" She started to sob, and she dropped her head down and held up the book to rest against her forehead. "I've believed in you for so long. Please, my stories, don't let me down now…"

Timpani could never have guessed that the greatest adventure of her life was set in motion this night. The kind of adventure she had dreamed about, the kind of adventure she had read about all her life.

Her wish was about to come true.


End file.
